Failing the Bechdel Test

I’m sitting at my local coffee shop.

Next to me are two young women. Not particularly pretty, but not unattractive either. And all they are talking about are boyfriends and how they used to have them and how they don’t anymore and how they feel comfortable where they are. If their life was a movie, it would not pass the Bechdel Test.

One of them noticed that her ex-boyfriend deleted her on facebook over the weekend. Not because she’s stalking him or anything. She just notices stuff like that really quick. Riiiiiight.

And then she goes on to talk about how she would totally go for that guy she met at new year’s eve. But she’s like really enjoying being single and getting to know who she is when she’s on her own.

I’m really eaves dropping aren’t I?

They’ve left now. So now it’s just me and my own thoughts.

This one woman (who did most of the talking) kept on insisting she was happy, but her whole way of thinking and the things she talked about just didn’t match up. If you are happy being single why are you checking your ex’s facebook? Why are you thinking about that guy you met almost 3½ months ago and that ‘you’d totally go for’ if he called? It’s been months – it’s not going to happen. Why are you not present in your own life as it is? Instead you’re caught up in the whole ‘could have – would have – should have.’

Sitting here thinking about it, It sounded like she was trying to convince herself that she was happy.

I pity her.  And I see myself reflected in her. It’s actually pretty uncomfortable to see myself as someone I don’t like.

You can bet that whenever I judge somebody, I judge myself by the same standards.

I don’t quite know what to do about it.

I could try to be more positive, but that would just be the equivalent of me trying to convince you guys that I’m totally fine and a-okay as a way to convince myself. But I’m not happy about my life right now. And trying to pretend won’t be enough.

Fuck it.

I’m going to work some more on my excel spreadsheet of wonder and rainbow colors and figure out what to do some other day. It’ll be a problem for Cat from the Future. She’s much smarter than me anyways. She’ll know what to do for sure.